


Skaiheda

by CWverse



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: BAMF Clarke Griffin, BAMF Clarke Griffin/Lexa, BAMF Lexa (The 100), F/F, F/M, Fix-It, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Wanheda Clarke Griffin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-16 04:14:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29944311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CWverse/pseuds/CWverse
Summary: When the 100 are sent to Earth, it's Wanheda on the dropship. Not Clarke Griffin.
Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Comments: 12
Kudos: 93





	Skaiheda

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I Do Not Own The 100

* * *

The door slid open, and Clarke knew it was time.

Her eyes locked on the guard's boots, and she braced herself for the rush of fear, the flood of desperate panic. But as she rose up onto her elbow, peeling her shirt from the sweat-soaked cot, all she felt was relief.

_I'm finally going back._

She'd been in a single cell for weeks, but there was no such thing as solitary. She heard voices everywhere. They called to her from the corners of her dark cell. They filled the silence between her heartbeats. They screamed from the deepest recesses of her mind. It wasn't death that she craved, but redemption. That was the only way the voices would stop.

She'd been confined for treason, but the truth was far worse than anyone could have imagined. A year ago, her father—Jake Griffin—had discovered that after three hundred years, the Ark was dying. The oxygen system was failing and even the best estimates had the work taking longer than the system could keep the population alive.

Today, as a means of lessening the load on the system and testing the survivability of Earth, 100 juvenile delinquents were being sent to the ground in a dropship. Clarke among them. _And I'm the only one who knows what is down there,_ she thought as the guard cleared his throat.

He shifted his weight from side to side. "Prisoner 319, please stand." He was younger than Clarke remembered, and his uniform hung loosely from his lanky frame, betraying his status as a recent recruit.

Clarke took a deep breath and rose to her feet. She wouldn't fight. Not this time. After weeks in her cell, with nothing but the voices and her thoughts, she had planned...and planned...and planned. It was all she did. The 100 had to do better. _She_ had to do better.

Skaikru could not go to war with the Coalition.

After Lexa—Clarke swallowed the knot in her throat as she thought about the former Heda of the Coalition—after Lexa had died the war between the clans had begun. No matter how hard she tried to stop it, by then it was too late. Too many things had gone wrong. There was no trust between the Skaikru and the Grounders. Only distrust. A distrust that originated with the 100.

"Hold out your hands," the guard said, pulling a pair of metal restraints from the pocket of his blue uniform. Clarke shuddered as his skin brushed against hers. She hadn't seen another person since her Death by a Thousand Cuts on Earth, let alone touched one.

"Are they too tight?" the guard asked, his brusque tone frayed by a note of sympathy that made Clarke's chest ache. If she hadn't fought the first time, would he have been this kind?

She shook her head.

"Just sit on the bed. the doctor's on her way."

"What?" Clarke asked hoarsely, the words scraping against her throat.

The guard spoke without meeting her eyes. "I need you to sit down."

Clarke took an uneven step and stumbled. The guard reacted immediately, rushing to her side and aiding her to the bed. She took advantage of his compassion and slipped the extendable shock-baton from his belt. Sucking in her stomach, Clarke slid the weapon into the front of her pants.

It wasn't perfect, but it was good enough. "Thank you," she said, the double-meaning in the words lost on the guard.

She perched stiffly on the edge of her narrow bed and waited. Although she knew that solitary warped your perception of time, it was hard to believe she had been back—in the past—for almost six months. The time she spent on Earth felt like an eternity ago. But she couldn't wait to go back. Despite all the hardships, Earth was where she belonged.

_I can't go back to living on the Ark,_ Clarke thought resolutely. Even if it was an option, she couldn't stay in space. Not after living under the blue sky of Earth. Hunting in its green forests.

No, she could never go back to living in space.

A figure appeared in the door and a tall, slender woman stepped into the cell. Although her long blonde hair partially obscured the pin on the collar of her lab coat, Clarke didn't need the insignia to recognize her as the Council's chief medical advisor. Not when she was also her mother.

"Hello, Clarke," she said pleasantly, as if she were greeting her in the hospital dining room instead of a detention cell. "How are you?"

"I'll be better in a few minutes."

Abby Griffin winced at Clarke's dark humor and turned to the guard. "Could you undo the cuffs and give us a moment, please."

The guard shifted uncomfortably. "I'm not supposed to leave her unattended."

"You can wait right outside the door," Abby said with exaggerated patience. "She's an unarmed seventeen-year-old. And my daughter. I think I'll be able to keep things under control."

The guard avoided Clarke's eyes as he removed the handcuffs. He gave Abby a curt nod as he stepped outside.

"Clarke—"

Clarke cut her mother off before she could say anything more. "Let's just get this over with," she said, the weight of the stolen shock-baton in her pants weighing on her.

It was a calculated risk. One she'd thought about for weeks. If someone discovered it, she might be floated instead of sent to Earth. Clarke was hoping that even if they did, her mother's friendship with the Chancellor and the Chancellor's guilt would keep her from being outright killed.

"Clarke, you are not being executed," Abby promised, quietly. Unlike the guard, she stared into Clarke's eyes. "You're being sent to the Ground. All 100 of you."

Clarke stared at her mother and waited. She knew what was coming next. Words she had been shocked to hear come from her mother's mouth. Before she knew that it wasn't Wells who had betrayed her trust.

"This gives you a chance to live," Abby said in the calm, slow manner she usually reserved for patients. "Your instincts will tell you to take care of everybody else first, just like your father. But Clarke, be careful."

Clarke closed her eyes, as if her mother's words had transformed from sounds into something visible. Something grotesque. "I need a gun," she whispered, glancing at the door. "Anything. Most of the 100 are boys."

Abby stared at her. Clarke felt her chest tighten, and she forced herself to breathe. She was lying. Could her mother tell? Would she send her to Earth anyway?

When she opened her eyes, Abby gestured to Clarke's side. "May I see your arm, please?"

Clarke extended her arm. Abby reached into her coat pocket and produced a cloth that smelled of anti=septic. She swept it along the inside of Clarke's arm.

"Don't worry. This isn't going to hurt."

Clarke closed her eyes.

Abby grasped her arm, her fingers searching for the vein. Her grip tightened when she gound it.

See you soon, Lexa.

Clarke took a deep breath as she felt the prick on the inside of her wrist. A numb feeling washed through her body.

"There. You're all set. Just relax, Clarke," Abby said with infuriating coolness.

Clarke's eyes grew heavy, and she slumped into her mother's side. "Earth, Clarke," she heard her mother's whisper. "You get to go to Earth."

* * *

"Prisoners of the Ark, hear me now!"

Clarke blinked her eyes open. On a screen in front of her, and more screens spread around the dropship, Chancellor Jaha was addressing the 100. _I slept longer than before._ That was Clarke's first thought. Her second was, _Why is there a bag strapped to my chest?_

"Welcome back." a familiar voice said.

Clarke's eyes snapped open. She looked to her side and saw Wells. "You're here?" she asked, breathlessly. His death, even now, still at the forefront of her mind. He was the second person she had ever let down.

Wells nodded. "When I found out they were sending prisoners to the Ground, I got myself arrested. I came for you," he whispered.

"You all have been given a second chance," Chancellor Jaha said, his voice echoing throughout the dropship. "And as your Chancellor, it is my hope that you see this as not just a chance for you, but a chance for all of us, indeed for mankind itself."

Clarke didn't give the Chancellor's speech much attention. She could hear it, but it was like a distant whisper in her ears. The words that mattered to her the most at that moment were Wells'.

_I came for you._

Once upon a time she had hated those words. After Wells' death, she had thought that he died because of her. She thought that if he'd stayed up on the Ark that he would be safe.

_How wrong was I?_

It was only later that she had learned that despite the many dangers on Earth, it was still safer than the Ark. If Wells had stayed on board, he could have volunteered for the Culling. Or been killed in the failed coup. Or been one of the hundreds who never even made it down to Earth.

"Clarke," Wells started. "I—"

Clarke shook her head to signal that now wasn't the time to talk about it. Wells looked away, then back. Clarke started to tell him to let it go when the main thrusters roared to life, shaking the words from her lips.

It was finally happening again. For the first time in centuries, humans had left the Ark. She glanced at the other passengers and saw that they had all gone quiet. A spontaneous moment of silence for the world they were leaving behind.

But the solemnity didn't last long. The Chancellor's speech had ended, and a loud shout broke the silence. "You're dad's a dick, Wells!"

Clarke sighed and for the next twenty minutes, the dropship was filled with the nervous, overexcited chatter of a hundred people who, until a few hours ago, had never even thought about going to Earth. Wells tried to say something to Clarke, but his words were lost in the din.

The only conversation Clarke could follow was that of the two girls in front of her, who were arguing over the likelihood of the air on Earth being breathable. "I'd rather drop dead right away than spend days being slowly poisoned," one said grimly.

She couldn't remember hearing that before. O her first trip down to Earth she had been so caught up in her anger at Wells. Clarke looked out the windows, which were now filling with hazy gray clouds. _How much had she missed because she was so focused on her and the ones close to her?_ she wondered.

The dropship jerked suddenly, and the buzz of conversation gave way to a flurry of gasps. "It's okay!" Clarke shouted immediately. "There is supposed to be turbulence when we enter Earth's atmosphere."

The shaking increased, followed by a strange hum. Clarke's harness dug into her stomach as her body lurched from side to side, then up and down, then side to side again. She gagged as a rancid odor filled her nose, and she realized that the girl in front of her had vomited. Clarke squeezed her eyes shut and tried to stay calm. _Everything was is fine. It'll all be over in a minute._

"Check it out," a childish voice mocked in front o her. "You're dad floated me after all."

Clarke opened her eyes. Floating weightless in the air in front of her and Wells was Finn. A Finn who hadn't yet murdered people in cold blood. Logically, Clarke knew this. Yet, all she could see was a man she had been forced to kill in order to save him from a fate worse than death.

"You need to strap in before the parachutes deploy," Clarke said, and around the dropship, she could see the other two boys already trying to get out of their seats.

She couldn't let them die again. Clarke reached into her pants and thankfully the shock-baton was still there. With her free hand, she grabbed Finn's jacket and yanked him into her and Wells' laps.

"Hi," Finn said, staring up at her. "I'm Fi—"

Clarke stunned him, cutting off any further conversation. "Where did you get that?" Wells whispered to her harshly.

Clarke ignored him and turned to the idiots trying to follow Finn's stupid example. "Hey!" she barked. "Stay in your seats, or you're going to die. We're _falling_ to Earth!"

Around her, the hum of the dropship became a piercing wail, punctuated by a sickening crushing noise. Clarke glanced at the windows and saw that they were cracked and were no longer full of gray.

They were full of flames.

Bits of white-hot metal began raining down on them. Clarke wanted to raise her arms to protect her head, but she held tight to Finn, trying to keep him from being tossed around like a ragdoll. She hissed as felt debris scorching her neck.

The dropship shook even harder, and with a roar, the retrorockets fired. There was a deafening crash followed by a thud that sent ripples through every bone in her body.

As suddenly as it began, it was all over.

The dropship was dark and silent. Smoke billowed out of a hole where the control panel had been, and the air grew thick with the smell of melting metal, sweat, and blood.

Clarke winced as she wiggled her fingers and toes. It hurt, but nothing seemed to be broken. She unhooked her harness and dumped Finn to the floor before rising shakily to her feet. She limped forward, gritting her teeth at the pain that shot up her leg.

When she reached the door she set her hand on the same lever Bellamy had pulled the first time. It was the first step he had taken to becoming the first leader of the 100. She had told Bellamy once that if he wanted the 100 to follow him, he couldn't act scared.

Fear had been the first thing she showed most of them. When she had tried to stop Bellamy from opening the door. Claiming the air might be toxic. She hadn't even thought of what they would do if it wasn't. They all couldn't live in the dropship.

It was a gut reaction, and it had cost her.

_Well, not this time._ Clarke thought, lifting the bag on her shoulder a little higher, she opened the door.

For a moment, she was aware of only colors, not shapes. Stripes of blue, green, and brown so vibrant her brain couldn't process them. A gust of wind passed over her, making her skin tingle and flooding her nose with scents Clarke had almost forgotten in solitary.

As far as she could see, there was nothing but trees. Hundreds of them, as if every tree on the planet had come to welcome them back to Earth. But she knew better now. Beyond the trees, there was so much more than anyone on the Ark could have ever imagined.

Clarke became vaguely aware of voices behind her and turned to see a few others emerge from the dropship. "It's beautiful," Octavia whispered as she reached down to run her hand along the shiny blades of green grass.

A short, stocky boy that Clarke didn't recognize took a few shaky steps forward. "Everything's fine," the boy said, his voice a mixture of relief and confusion. "We could've come back ages ago."

"You don't know that," another girl replied. "Just because we can breathe now, doesn't mean the air isn't toxic." She raised her wrist up and gestured with her bracelet. "The Council didn't give us these as jewelry. They want to see what happens to us."

A smaller girl hovering next to the door whimpered as she pulled her jacket up over her mouth.

Clarke's heart twisted at the sight. _Charlotte,_ she thought and shuffled herself closer to the girl. Clarke kneeled down and gently pulled the jacket away from Charlotte's mouth. Wells had been the first friend she lost on Earth, but the first person she _failed_ was Charlotte.

"You can breathe normally," Clarke said, smiling at Charlotte. "Everything is going to be okay."

Right now, Charlotte wasn't a murderer. She was just a scared little girl who needed help. Clarke looked around at the rest of the 100. Octavia. Bellamy. Finn. Murphy. None of them were the people she remembered and she couldn't act like they were. She had to see them as the people they were now.

The future was going to change. It had to if the Skaikru wanted to survive on Earth. _The people I remember might not ever exist,_ Clarke thought, turning back to look at the little girl who had become a murderer.

The future might become blurry when she started changing things, but the past was a trap.

**Author's Note:**

> Binged the 100 during lock-down! Can't believe I forgot how much Lexa's death pissed me off! So, here's a blatant self-indulgent fic of everything working out for two girls who deserved better than what they got!


End file.
